


toss your dirty shoes

by milo_the_fish



Series: and we are alive [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: After March 4th Stream, Gen, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wilbur is Resurrected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 21:15:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30027960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milo_the_fish/pseuds/milo_the_fish
Summary: Tommy wakes to find that the revive book was used a second time.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: and we are alive [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2211636
Comments: 3
Kudos: 115
Collections: SBI Fics to Make Sebbie Cry





	toss your dirty shoes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [you—the reader](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=you%E2%80%94the+reader).



He is woken up by a light touch on his forehead, someone’s slim fingers pushing his messed curls back onto the top of his head. There isn’t anyone that he knows of that it could be, nobody who he has allowed to be this close go him before exile. He doesn’t know what to do but flutter his eyes open and looked at the person sitting next to him. That same person’s hand rests on his cheek, their thumb stroking it lightly, and he let’s out a little sigh and finally his eyes crack open. There wasn’t any one person he expected, knowing that most of the others hate him. (That’s always been the case, hasn’t it?)

In the dark of his dirt home, the only light being his lanterns and torches that are slowly losing gas, he sees his brother. Wilbur looks the same as he did in the afterlife, brown curls highlighted with a thick streak of white that sits on his forehead, thin glasses sitting atop his nose, and his fur-trimmed coat looking as cozy as ever. “Good morning, my darling boy,” Wilbur whispers, his thumb still rubbing circles on Tommy’s cheek. “W- Wilby? He- H-“ Tommy stutters out, tears building, his hands shaking. “Yes, he brought me back, my sweet boy, it was quite the shock to wake in the ruins of our home, but I’m happy to be alive again,” his big brother smiles down at him, ramping up his emotions and now tears are forced out of his eyes at a violent pace. “ _Wilby_ ,” he sobbed, and then his brother wrapped him up into a giant hug, holding the quivering boy to him. “S-Sam, h-he lef-f-f-t m-me in- in- w-wi-with _him_ ,” Tommy whimpers into his brother, his crying turning to a trembling weeping.

Wilbur lets him break down, rubbing up and down his back in an indecipherable pattern, and eventually shifting so that Tommy was sat in his lap. “My sweet boy, my little dandelion, it will be okay, everything will be okay, big brother Wilbur has you,” he coos at him, Wilbur’s voice barely a whisper, and he presses a kiss on the top of the boy’s head, bringing him closer than before and mumbling affirmations and words of adoration, of hope.

His tears slow an hour later, leaving Tommy exhaustedly burrowing himself closer to his brother. “Wilby?” Tommy’s voice cracks, and he sniffles, waiting for his brother’s voice to rumble through his chest. “Yes, my darling boy?” His brother asks, warm fondness absolutely drenching his low voice. “D- Do you think we could leave? I don’ wanna be here anymore,” his voice is muffled against his brother’s chest, trying to hide the shame and guilt bubbling in his stomach. He feels like a coward; for wanting to leave, for wanting to be far away from everyone here. Wilbur hums, resting his chin on the boy’s blond curls, “I think I’d like that, bub, just us dirty crime boys against the world, yeah?” Tommy giggles for a second, “Just us against the world, Will.”

“Just us against the world,” Wilbur laments, smiling to himself at idea of it: no geo-politics, no traitors, no Phil, no Techno, no Tubbo; just them how it’s always been, and always will be.

It makes Wilbur think of their childhood, of their first meeting to their final parting, and he knows that Tommy would always be by his side. It doesn’t matter what has happened, where they are, who they were with: Tommy has been the only one who he truly trusted, who he felt would never betray him. Why would he? Wilbur raised him from ground up, when he was a scrawny tot running around and causing chaos in their commune, to the man he knew as his commander, his vice-president. Tommy was not a conniving and disastrous child, he was kind and sweet, he was Wilbur’s favorite person in the whole entire world. “Toms, I know… I know I haven’t been good at expressing my feelings,” he pauses, placing a small kiss on the crown of his little brother, “I just- I’ve missed you, and I know I told you I was happy to see you, but… this goes _beyond_ that. This isn’t just- I- Tommy, I’m _sorry_. I had hurt you, I made everything worse, I didn’t- I hadn’t wanted you to get maimed like I had, deep down I know that, I _feel_ that. It doesn’t change what I’ve done, what I’ve done to you,” he cradles the part of Tommy’s jaw between his cheek and neck, stroking the lower parts of his cheek.

“I don’t understand why you still trust me, or even love me, I’ve done so many things to wrong you,” he feels Tommy reach up, holding onto his forearm with his bandaged hand, small calloused fingers rough against the smooth skin. “Will, you’re my brother,” Tommy states, his voice shaky, his tone determined, “No matter what you do, I still love you, because you’re the only one who cares about me, not Tubs or Sam, or Phil, you’re the only one who still cares if- if I died.” His eyes fill with tears again, thinking about his first day back, how they all looked at him in abject horror, telling him he isn’t real, that he deserved to die and should’ve stayed in the afterlife. “My sweet boy, look at me,” Wilbur asks, his voice turning to a warm honeyed cloud of concern, and Tommy does, meeting Wilbur’s dark eyes and seeing the worry build. His brother still looks the same, he feeds his mind, knowing that his brother is the same, that he has one person to still care about him.

“I will always care about you, no matter how far from sanity I will be, you will always be my sunshine boy, you will always be my Tommy,” Wilbur’s voice was firm, holding Tommy’s brain in a vise grip, and he almost flinches when Wilbur shifts forward, placing a delicate peck onto his forehead. “I love you, so much that my heart will burn until all of the stars burn out, even outliving the eventual collapse of the universe,” Wilbur shifts his hand down back towards Tommy’s waist, linking with his other hand and resting his right elbow on Tommy’s lap. “Maybe that makes no sense for you, and maybe I cannot formulate the correct words,” he stops, gulping, “But I- I know I was never the perfect father to Fundy, but I hope maybe I was a good brother to you, better than I was a parent.” Tommy lets out a tiny ‘mmm’, thinking thoroughly about something, Wilbur could practically the gear churning.

“What- What if- What if you weren’t really a dad for Fundy, but you were one for me?” Tommy asks, voice quiet, as if what he was saying could get him killed. Maybe he would, because he was finally putting the statement out there, the one that they’ve known all along, but kept those ideas hidden in the depths of their feelings, trying to keep it locked in a box made of netherite. Wilbur thinks, of their intertwined lives, the way he’s spent his youth holding Tommy’s hand, guiding him, teaching him, playing with him, and maybe those feelings were right. “I’m alright with that, you are the best son I could ever ask for, Tom.”

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys sorry i haven’t been writing i’ve been stress sick, taking care of my will, and just having a really heavy depression relapse. 
> 
> your continued support is nuts, i’m serious, any comment or kudos go straight to my email and they make my day. i didn’t expect any of this,,, and like bruh seeing 77 user subs??? like WHAT??? that’s absolutely crazy to me that even one person would like to read anything it create, so like 100+ terrifies me (in a good way? also in an anxiety way lmao),,, seriously i don’t know what to say besides: thank you. :)


End file.
